Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Nothing could be hidden in that light, thank God.
You were wrong when you said no one would call him beautiful.
Hugo bit his lip when he saw the light bruising on his hip and thigh and he let his palm skim over it. “Hurting?”
“Not because of that.”
His hand slid over Solomon’s toned abs. “I thought you said things went downhill after forty. If that’s true, I’m not sure I could have survived a younger version of Younger.”
Solomon’s chest started to rise and fall rapidly as Hugo continued to touch him, purposely avoiding his flushed, jutting erection. “Are you trying to torture me?”
Hugo walked around him, groaning as he filled his greedy palms with Solomon’s ass. “Give me a minute. You got to enjoy the view. It’s my turn.”
His ass was perfection.
“I saw you like this once before, you know.”
Solomon’s laugh was ragged. “I think I’d remember.”
“You didn’t know. It was after our precinct played the Touchdowns for Charity game. I was busy talking to the kids, so I didn’t get into the lockers until everyone else was showered and gone. Everyone but you.”
Solomon stiffened. “That was—”
“Six years ago now. Trust me, I know.” He traced designs on Solomon’s skin, watching the muscles bunch and flex in response to his touch. “You were drying off. You bent over with your back to me, and all I could see were these pale, meaty mounds of flesh I wanted to spank. Bite.” He squeezed both cheeks firmly and Solomon gasped, arching his back in reaction. “For being such a slim drink of water you have one hell of an ass, Younger. Maybe it’s all that running you do, I don’t know, but I’ve had six years of knowing what you had hidden beneath your uniform. You want to talk about torture? This is the first time since then I’ve seen you completely naked. That’s the definition.”
“When we…You never…” Solomon blew out a rough breath. “I can’t think when you’re touching me.”
“I can’t think that much when the head of my cock is filling your throat, but I still drove us here. And I still dreamt about more when you weren’t around to distract me. But I’m ready to stop dreaming now.”
Hugo glanced around the room, his need making him impatient. “The desk. There was a desk in a lot of those dreams and I think you know why. Go over to it and put your elbows on the surface. We’ll be careful of your arm, but I need to get a certain fantasy out of my system.”
Solomon shivered as he obeyed, moving the chair out of the way before bending over the small generic desk.
Fuck, yes.
“Spread your legs a little wider,” Hugo ordered as he tore his shirt off, shucking his sneakers and jeans until his only covering was a pair of tented black briefs. He cupped himself and squeezed his cock to stem the ache. “That’s it. Just like that. Damn, that’s a beautiful sight.”
Hugo dragged the chair across the carpet, situating himself between Solomon’s thighs before sitting down with one hand on either cheek. “I changed my mind,” he said, massaging and spreading it for his pleasure. “I’m definitely hungry.”
“Oh my God,” Solomon shouted his surprise when Hugo buried his face between the cheeks of his ass and tongued his hole.
He dug his fingers into the resilient flesh beneath his hands, forcing him to stay still as he took what he wanted.
He heard Solomon’s moans, felt the shimmering tension in his body and knew from his reaction he hadn’t expected this. No one had ever done this for him before.
Good, he thought possessively. This is mine.
Then nothing mattered but taking more. When Solomon wiggled, he lifted his hand and smacked his skin sharply. When he clenched his cheeks, Hugo spread them wider and forced his tongue inside his unbelievably tight ass.
“Hugo. God, Hugo, I can’t believe you’re… Don’t stop.”
He growled, pressing deeper. He tongued him until he was wet enough to take a finger, then he pushed inside, stretching him, getting him ready for what was coming. What would keep coming over and over again until one of them cried out for mercy.
Inside him. Have to get inside.
“Hugo. Hugo. Hugo.” Solomon chanted his name, rocking back against him, riding his mouth.
Younger begging for him. Belonging to him.
He lifted his mouth long enough to make his confession. “I used to get hard every time you sat on the edge of your desk. In your khaki pants or your blues, both of them fit snug over your dick like they were tailor-made to give me a show.” He dragged his finger back, pushing it deep again just to hear Solomon’s moan. “And then there were those times you wouldn’t get out of your chair at all and I knew you couldn’t. I knew you wouldn’t dare, because I’d gotten you too hard. I wanted to crawl under your desk, unzip you and get you off, right there. Or bend you over the way I’m doing now and lick until you were begging.”